Lake Mburo and Dark Roads

Lake Mburo.

In the past, we have driven past Lake Mburo National Park.  The Kabale road (I think) passes it, through lands that were once inside the park, but have been privatized for cattle keepers and farmers.  A good idea, I think—when land is protected by evicting all the people, it creates a conflict between people and conservation, which I think is wrong and counterproductive.

Anyway, we decided to go inside the park, to see if maybe next time, we could stop there on the way.  The idea was, instead of driving through insane Kampala all the way South to North at 3 in the morning, why not go the other way, South to Mbarara, and stay at Lake Mburo. 

As we turned down the dirt road to the Park, we nearly immediately were confronted by half a dozen zebras—animals I have not seen in the wild before.  Inside the park, there were more, as well as impalas (another first) and other animals and birds.  Just a few at a time, cautiously lurking in the dense brush..  I was sold.

We decided to have lunch at the Rwakobo Rock Lodge.  The food was OK, but the view from this enormous boulder high above the rolling scrubby hills of Mburo was amazing.  Then we got a tour of the site, including a hut with a nice view.  $280 a night.  No thanks.  Fortunately, there was a more affordable option, a campsite with large tents, for $10 per person.  That’s better.  Also, while we don’t want to plunge students new to Africa right into challenging environments, we don’t want them to be let down when we arrive at the Golden Monkey in Kisoro. 

As we left Mburo, it was a bit later than we thought—about 3:30.  With a  6 hour drive ahead, it later occurred to me that we would be driving well after dark.  And I remembered a warning from an expat, that this is a very bad idea. 

Night fell just before we reached the largish town of Kabale.  There was paved road, mostly, except for the parts being made, but in Kabale, every road had been scraped down to red earth, which the rain had made into puddles and something just thicker than puddles.  It was absolute darkness, yet hundreds of people, some on foot, some on bicycles, some in cars, swerved and staggered along the roads.  Tony said that many were drunk on sorghum beer.  The main road was blocked, and an arrow pointed cheerfully to turn left.  Yet no right-hand arrow ever appeared.  Tony knows all the roads here, so that’s OK.  Most alarming were the dozens of children, from age two to ten, wandering and playing along the road side.  The headlights would just pick up the forehead of a shiny toddler running in the mud along the roadside.  It must have taken an hour to go two miles to get out of town.

From there on the road surface improved, but the long climbs and descents made the driving a continued challenge.  To make matters worse, trucks and busses struggled to climb the grades.  When passing them on this two lane road, often an unlit motorcycle or bike would come whizzing down the mountainside at you.   By 8 pm, the trucks were gone, and though an improbably large number of coach busses lurched towards us in the dark (5?  7?)  we finally made it to the Golden Monkey guest house.